The Glitch (The Glitches Series Book 1) Page 17

  I put my head down. I know that means nothing good for me.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The council is made of nine Rogues—and me. I follow the others down one of the darkest, narrowest tunnels and step into a small room with a single hole overhead that lets in a strong shaft of light. I am told to stand under the light. It is strong enough to warm my skin. Bird is here, as is Wolf and Lion. I know Bobcat should be here. And two more. Stones are set around the room as seats, and three are left empty. Three who have died in the two scavenges gone wrong.

  I don’t think that is going to help me.

  I want Skye and Raj to be here and I ask for that.

  Wolf shakes his head. His long, dark hair sways a little. “No Glitches—except you. You are allowed because you must stand before council.”

  I look around. Mouse’s mother is here, an older woman who is probably in her late twenties. Her name is Wind and I know she came to the Trackers from another clan, like Bird did. She looks at the others not at me as she speaks. “This one has brought us uncertainty and chaos. She is wrong in a way we have not seen before.”

  Hands clenched at my sides, I shake my head. “Wrong how? What have I to do with drones? I haven’t done anything wrong.” The words taste strangely like a lie, but it’s the truth. I know it is.

  Wind ignores me. “Six have gone back into the ground, including Bear, since this Glitch came. Do we keep on with this until the whole clan is no more?”

  The others swap glances. They sit in a semi-circle in front of me. Bird stares at her hands, her head lowered and the blood still on her arms. She rubs her palms together. Her words about my dreams are the most damaging thing against me, but I don’t know what to say.

  “Law says we think first of the clan.” This comes from Horse, a man who only looks a couple of years older than Wolf. “This Glitch brings back luck. We cannot have that.”

  “Remember, she is clan,” Wolf says, his voice soft.

  I glance at him. His face doesn’t look soft. I can’t hope for help from him.

  “What evidence do we have she has done wrong?” A woman named Elk straightens and pushes back her hair. She has a kind voice and could be any age. Her dark skin is unlined and her brown eyes seem sad. “We cannot just cast her out without evidence.”

  “She’s a Glitch before she’s anything else,” Horse says. He folds his arms over his chest. “Law is we don’t waste, but this is worse than if she’s no use.”

  Elk shakes her head. “She’s clan.” A silence falls. No one will meet my eyes.

  I wet my lips and say, “I am clan. I chose. I joined the Trackers. Has any Glitch done that before?” No one answers. “Well, doesn’t that prove something? That I am here to be of use—that I can help?” I look around at the grim faces staring at me. I realize this is no help to me. In the end, I am still only a Glitch.

  I am different.

  Wolf frowns, but Bird looks up and says, “I am Bird Sees Far. My clan was gifted with sight for those who trained in how to use it, and I tell you the truth now. I have the sight, and those of you who know me know my visions are never wrong, even if they are not always clear.”

  Heads nod, and a few mutter approval of this. I turn my stare at Bird. Visions. The word pings in my brain and connects. It is an uncanny ability to see either the future or events beyond ordinary sight. This is how Bird came across me and Raj. She saw us.

  “What do your visions show?” Elk asks.

  Bird looks at each person, and then puts her gaze on me. Her eyes glow hot with anger—and fear. “I see the smoke of ruins. I see Lib walking in shadows. She is something…something odd. I thought she would do great things—and she will. But now I see more. I see a valley of death. She brings destruction with her. She will change the world, and may mercy be upon us when she does for it will forever alter every path of every living thing. And I see a link, a tie between her and the AI. She is sheltered by the AI. She is used by our enemy.”

  The room sills. Bird’s voice fills me with a terrible dread. A certainty settles inside my chest like a weight. I don’t want this to be true. But there are threads of truth.

  It’s all my fault.

  But can I change that? A vision is simply a sign. It is not yet fact.

  However, glances slip away from me. Those who look at me do so with mouths thinned and eyes dark and cold. Bird has made up their minds about me. I dare not look at Wolf. I don’t want to know what he thinks of me now, but my gaze slips to him.

  His eyes are dark and unreadable.

  He stands to face me and raises his hand. “We cannot decide in two beats of a heart what one of the clan must endure for the rest of time. Think on this for one cycle of time. For a day and a night. When we return, your fate, Lib, will be decided.”

  The others file out one at a time. Wolf is the last to go. He stops and stares at me. It reminds me of when we first met a,nd he put me into the Coffin. Now will he put me into the Outside—where I will most certainly end nonfunctional? Or will I? Do I know enough to survive on my own? Or could I go back to the Norm—to the AI—and tell Conie I failed. Would she take me back?

  I shudder at the thought. The AI’s drones killed Marq and Chandra. They have killed too many Rogues. They will kill the clan if they are allowed. Lifting my chin, I meet Wolf’s stare. He gives a nod as if he has decided something. I don’t know what it is.

  But I have things to think over, too.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The council room dims and stars come out overhead. I l stare up at the ceiling. I can’t sleep. Sleep brings dreams filled with death that only reminds me there is truth in Bird’s words.

  I am supposed to do something. I bring destruction with me. But whose? So many have become…I stop there. I hate that phrase nonfunctional. That is a Glitch…no, that is an AI phrase. Death is what comes to any human…and I am human, too.

  How can it be my fault if I haven’t done anything to help the AI?

  But I think of the AI, secure in the Norm and with all her systems in place. How she spoke to me calmly even when she knew I was trying to help Raj all along. She was so familiar to me. She had the face of my mother. I long again to be back in a connect—that world is so much more comfortable than this one.

  “No,” I whisper to the empty room. “It’s not.”

  Saying the words aloud doesn’t chase away the feelings. I sit up and stare at the darkness. My eyes are used to seeing with very little light. I know how to use my hearing to judge where the wall is. I can smell fresh or stale air. Folding my legs up beneath me, I stare at the rock where Wolf sat and wonder how quickly I got here. It seems another life, the one where I was clan. But in so short a time I had. It could almost be a dream. I touch my lips. Even the press of Wolf’s mouth to mine seems as if it happened to someone else.

  Perhaps it did. Perhaps that was a Lib who forgot her function—her real purpose. It no longer matters what the Rogue council decides. Slow knowledge builds within me. I must leave. I will not stay to allow others to decide my fate.

  The AI threw me out of the Norm. I am done with others choosing for me.

  But there is more at stake than my own life.

  I think of Skye and how I found her facing sentinels in a bad connect. She is thin now and I know she will get thinner. The Outside is hard on her, dangerous and biting. It isn’t for a girl like her.

  The Norm, however, is. It’s so perfect there is no struggle to survive, no scraping and scrounging. No need to hunt for food and no killing heat. Skye could be safe in the Norm. She could be happy. So would Raj. He wants to be with his family again and should be.

  But that can’t happen with the AI as she is now.

  I promised Raj we would go back to reprogram the AI. If I do that, Skye can return to the Norm. She can be happy. Raj can find his family. Maybe I can go back with them. Maybe I will find my mother and all my memories—if they exist. But I am not like Raj and Skye. Bird is right when she says there is somet
hing strange about me. I am I not really sure I want to know more about myself, but I need to think of Skye and Raj now, and any other Glitches who may be with other Rogue clans.

  Standing up quickly, I decide I must go. I will go. I can tell Conie I found the Glitches—and I will find a way to make her take them back as Techs. I will correct the errors.

  And maybe I can figure out how she’s tracking Rogues, too.

  A wild hope lifts that I can return to the Rogues if I do that. I will be welcomed back. Wolf might put his mouth on mine again and press his body close. Or I will die.

  I will deal with all that later. Right now, I must escape the tunnels.

  Moving as quietly as a Rogue, I stand and quickly head to the main room.

  I do not worry about being caught. I worry about being stopped before I can get what I need to make it to the Norm.

  That fear makes me move faster. In the main room, I head to where the Glitches sit and pull out my pouch, which still has the gear from the scavenge that Raj and I did in the Empties. I’m going to miss him, but I don’t let that thought slow me down. If this works, I’ll see him again. Maybe in the Norm.

  With my pouch strap slung over my head and sitting crossways on my body, I head to the storage room, a short tunnel that is just off the main room. I grab one skin with water and a handful of dried meat. I glance around. Croc keeps his dry plant for healing in his room, but the storage room holds cloth, food that is dried or salted to keep, barrels of water, and even the seeds Raj and I scavenged that haven’t yet been put into the ground to grow. Everything for the clan to survive. It seems so little.

  I don’t want to take from the clan, but I must. They are wrong about one thing—the clan needs to think more about each individual. The clan couldn’t go on without Wolf…but it will go on without me.

  Before I go, I remember the cold outside and take a single jacket of thick, black cloth. I hope it will help me blend in with the darkness. I pull it on and head for one of the exit tunnels, lifting my head to smell for the cold clean air.

  I have no idea what awaits me in the Norm, but I know the AI will be awake. And maybe Conie is waiting for me.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The desert is cold. The jacket is too big for me, the sleeves too long, but that means I can tuck my fingers up into the sleeves for added warmth. I walk for almost an hour before I think it is safe enough to stop and rest. Mindful of the creatures that will be out—I can hear their scenting and their howls and sometimes their padding paws tracking me—I find an outcropping of rocks and check it thoroughly before I sit down.

  I drink two sips of water, eat one bite of meat, and then settle to do the real work.

  I unpack the items scavenged from the Empties. My lips are dry and I want another sip of water, but I resist the urge to drink. I have to use only what I need when I need it. That is the law. Wolf taught me that. The memory of Wolf leaves my eyes stinging and my nose burning. I really do not expect to see Wolf again, despite my hopes.

  I know none of this is likely to work. But I must try.

  I pull out a spool of copper wires, flat scraps of metal—some scorched black, some half rusted—and an ancient handheld. I also have one of the rubies Raj found. I am going to need something else—part of a drone.

  I put together the weapon Raj talked about—the laser. I work fast. For once, I do not need to remember. My fingers seem to know what to do without my needing to think. All too soon I have something that will work. But I need power.

  I need an AT. I head to where they are kept. It takes what seems like a long time, but it is still night when I get there. With a silent apology to Bobcat, I take the AT she always rode. She will not need it now she is in the ground. I ride toward the Norm and back to the first platform where I met Skye. I hook up my device to the platform, connecting it so it will have power. It will probably pull a lot.

  Now I need a drone to find me. I know how to make that happen. I have to be noticed. I throw rocks at the wall to the Norm. It takes two dozen rocks before I hear the hum. I sniff and tip my head back. The drone is coming down from the top of the wall. It must want to know what’s banging on the Norm.

  Crouching down, I lift my weapon. I have not tested it. It will either work or it won’t. I point it at the drone and wait for the black ball to get closer. It puts out some kind of mechanical arm. I wait and take a breath. And press the button to the weapon. Nothing happens. I push the button again, glance down, see a loose wire and put my fingers on that.

  The electrical charge knocks me back on my butt. I fall away and my weapon explodes. Metal flies. I duck. I hear the clatter of metal on metal and then a thud. Smoke tangs the air. Looking up, I see the drone on the ground, sputtering, sparks flying out. I get up, walk over and kick it. It goes silent. It really is nonfunctional. I glance at my weapon. It didn’t work as planned, but it worked. I think I might have had too much power connected to it. I might have shorted out the platform, too.

  Pulling out my knife, I start to take apart the drone. I have to work fast. The AI will send other drones.

  The insides of the drones surprise me. It is partly organic, partly gear. Bits of data I have from the data orb start to make sense.

  The data orb had a file called bioengineering. It was meant to increase the human lifespan but was adapted into military applications.

  Drones.

  And something else…into humans that were partly created. Cyborgs—that is the term the data orb used.

  I realize why this data came to me. I am similar to the drone. I am part organic and part gear. I am descended from those cyborgs. I am not a Glitch. I’m something else. And I am going to make that work for me.

  I pry the panels off the drone and get to the power source. I know this is an organic battery—one far more powerful than the old lithium ones Raj found in the Empties.

  I pull out pieces I can use, weaving the circuitry of the drone into my jacket. The done is quickly gutted. Inside, I find the lens I need. I pull that out and fashion an eyepiece. Now I just need a connect.

  I glance at the platform. It is nonfunctional. But maybe I can use the drone.

  I pull out the core and find the weapon the drone uses. It is more compact than the one I made. I hope it is functional still. I secure the drone’s power source in my pouch and take the weapon and link up with me. I walk over to the Norm’s wall. I need a connect, and then I have to hack the door.

  I touch the link and my palm closes over it. Tiny pinpricks dance over my skin. I blink.

  Connection: Secure.

  When I open my eyes I’m in the file room. I blink again to change it from cabinets to lines of light. They are much easier to work with. I glance around, searching for the right one. It shifts and vibrates over to hum in front of me. I pluck it with one finger. I pluck a dozen more, so it will seem more like a general systems error. I do not want the AI to know what I am doing just yet.

  I step back and out of the connect.

  The door to the Norm is open. I glance inside. I want to make certain no Techs are around.

  Just as the Outside is night right now, the Norm copies this pattern. The dome overhead is no longer sky blue, but it is dark. However, there are no stars, no points of light moving across the dome. It is just black. Lights near the ground mark paths to follow, and more lights indicate doorways. Windows glow with shifting colors and I hear sounds from some of the buildings. It is as if the Techs are hearing stories being told to them. Maybe the AI tells stories the same way that Rogues do.

  Stepping back into the Outside, I slip on the drone’s visual and secure it with wire.

  A visual screen appears. I see both the Norm around me and lines of code. It takes a moment, and then the code shifts—or my brain does. The code becomes a language I know. I call up a map of the Norm, and then overlay connections. Finally, I pull up a schematic of the AI’s core systems—even a computer must live somewhere.

  It is different than Raj said. The AI is n
ot at the center of the Norm. She is below it and spread out across several systems. I call up additional information and trace down where the greatest power is located—that shows up at once.

  I have a map now and some form of protection with the drone’s weapon.

  A soft hum carries to me on the wind. Turning, I see an AT heading toward me. It is coming in fast and I brace my legs wide. Who followed me? Is it Wolf?

  The AT slows and stops, and Raj steps off.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He glances at the doorway to the Norm and then to the smoking ruins of the drone, and finally back to me. His mouth pulls down but he shrugs. “I got up and saw your pouch was missing. You’ve been busy.” He waves a hand to the parts of the drone I wear.

  “I’m doing this alone.”

  His eyebrows lift high. “Really? And how are you doing that?”

  I frown. I have the sudden urge to shoot him with the drone weapon, but I can’t. I could hit him, however, and knock him on his ass.

  He seems to know this for he drops his arms and says, “If we stand here arguing, that’s just giving the AI time to track down your access. Or we could just get this done.” He begins to walk past me, heading in the direction of the open doorway.

  For a moment, I’m stunned and just stare at him. I make a frustrated noise, but I am also relieved to have help.

  “I don’t want this to be a repeat of last time.” Catching up to him, I place my hand on his shoulder, forcing him to stop. He does and I stare into his eyes. “If I say bail, we do. This is dangerous, and I don’t think the AI is going to give us another chance to walk away.”

  His brings up his hand and puts it over mine. His fingers are as cold as mine, but he gives my hand a squeeze. “You don’t have to do this alone, Lib. I won’t let you. We’re going to fix the AI and the Norm.”